


In the Weeds

by TheMetaphysical



Category: GOT7
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternative Lifestyles, Cheating, Gangs, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, POV Alternating, Poverty, Prostitution, Thailand, Trust Issues, Why Did I Write This?, also jinbam/bamyoung?, broke af bambam, chic and sexy jackson, enough jjp and markson!!, idk why i like writing about poverty and prostitutes lol, im kidding i love markson, jackbam, lol hope u enjoy, rich boy jackson, show them love dammit, thailand au, the market is saturated!!, where the hell are all the jackbam fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-19 02:58:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMetaphysical/pseuds/TheMetaphysical
Summary: Bambam is a street rat, just trying to get by on the streets of Pattaya. Jackson is a visitor to the area. What happens when their two worlds collide?(There are not enough Jackbam fics!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Pattaya, Thailand is the city with the most prostitutes in the world.

 

“Ow!” Bambam jerked awake at the feeling of a rat biting him. He peered at the gray little pest, trying to eat his foot, and quickly smashed it with his fist. He heaved a sigh, letting his head smack back down against the dirt alleyway he had slept in, then sat up, rubbing his eyes. His peaceful slumber was disturbed, first by the rat, then by the afternoon sun casting a glare in his eyes. He looked past the dumpster bin that was shielding his body and keeping his location anonymous, out of the alley, and into the main street where life was abustle. 

If not for the rat, he would have remained asleep until dusk, his day not really starting until nightfall anyways. Now he had to get up. His stomach was rumbling loudly and it would prove difficult to have fallen asleep again at this point.  So he began the search for his breakfast. He wasn’t desperate enough to eat the rat, instead, diving in the dumpster for any thrown out food, or a few cockroaches if he was lucky.

He stumbled upon some moldy rice and bread, a true gem compared to what he ate earlier this week (grubs and fish bones), and feasted graciously. He walked to the opposite end of the alley and sniffed the gutter trickling down the side of the wall, making sure it wasn't a sewage pipe. Verifying that it was clean, he drank heartily. He also took the opportunity to rinse his body of the dirt that had accumulated since his last bath two weeks ago.

Making his way out onto the main street, Bambam felt a bit confident. He was cleaner and fuller than he had been in a while, perhaps a good omen that that today would be a success.

Bambam didn’t like working the streets in the daytime. There was a greater chance he could be arrested. He knew his rights to a minimum from overhearing the women who unknowingly worked with him. He was 16 now, old enough to consent and old enough to work, but not old enough to be out on his own, emancipated. He was still technically a minor and could be placed into foster care at any time. But Bambam had been on the streets for too long to try to conform to normal society. Besides, Bambam was abandoned; he didn’t know the feeling of having a mother or father. Why should he have to start now? The men, women and children who worked underground, in the underbelly of Pattaya with him, were all too far gone for normalcy. They had their own culture and way of life, and everyone who entered and left Pattaya understood that.

Bambam had been working a few hours, unsurprised he had no fish to bite his bait. Only the real sex addicts showed their faces during the day time. The best clientele showed their faces at night. While Bambam was loitering around a fruit stand, trying not to be obvious about his intentions, he noticed the foreigners starting to pour in from all around the world, curious about how good sex in Thailand really was. 

When the store owner was selling a smoothie to one of these foreigners, Bambam couldn’t control his hunger, and swiped a banana. Before he could hide the evidence behind his back, a large hand grabbed his forearm. Bambam looked at his assailant in shock, then rage. He looked at the store owner to see he was still distracted, then returned his gaze back to the stranger holding his arm tighter than a cobra holds its prey. Bambam dropped the banana by mistake, and the stranger immediately bent to pick it up and put it back. 

“One banana, please.” The man responded in heavily accented Thai. He paid and gave the banana back to Bambam. Bambam stared back, confused, irritated. But at the sight of the banana, he quickly peeled it and ate it, his hunger making him unable to control himself. He chucked the peel behind him, then huffed a sigh of content. The stranger smiled down at him and Bambam almost forgot he was there. Then it clicked.

“What’s your name?” Bambam asked.

“Jackson. You?”

“Bambam.” He used the name he gave foreigners. “Do you have any plans for tonight?” Bambam took a step closer, trying to be coy.

“I don’t know, but I could make some.”

He was receptive, noted. Bambam studied the stranger. Not much taller than himself, young, pretty good-looking, and interested in Bambam. Bambam stepped closer again, and whispered into his ear. “If you buy a room for the night I can make it worth your while.”

Jackson put a hand on Bambam’s back and agreed.

 

Winding their way through the streets, Bambam was staring hungrily at the vendors, and Jackson was buying him as many treats as he wanted until they finally made it to the throng of hotels, at the end of the bazaar. They both knew the drill, quickly booking the room, then making their way up the stairs. Bambam immediately started undressing, even before the door was closed. 

“Relax,” Jackson ushered. “You can take a shower first. I’m sure you want to.”

He was right. Bambam was thirsty again and he could use soap this time. He felt luxurious in the shower, using every soap, shampoo, lotion and spray in there. He even put the shower cap on just because. He stared at himself in the mirror, tanned face, hair damp, and no dirt on his body. Today really was turning out to be a good day.

He left the bathroom completely nude, not understanding the shame associated with the naked body. He walked over to Jackson, laying on the bed. Jackson looked up from his blackberry at Bambam and motioned to the side table. Keys, a wallet, the room key, and more, were all on the table. “I’ll pay you when we’re done. All the money’s right here, so you don’t have to worry.” Bambam hadn’t really thought to hold Jackson accountable to pay for his services. He had been cheated so many times, he was used to it. And he wasn’t strong enough to fight for it. There was always the chance he could get beat up or killed. He would have traded sex just for the shower and food from the bazaar.

Jackson had a t-shirt and linen pants on. He also wore a lot of jewelry Bambam couldn’t stop staring at. “Do you wanna try it on?” Jackson excitedly motioned to his necklace.

“Try it on?” Bambam wavered.

Jackson began to unfasten it from his neck, then fasten it behind Bambam’s. “Check yourself out.” Jackson nodded towards the mirror hanging above the bed. Bambam stood on the bed and admired himself. He had never seen anything so pretty, even the gold and red silks in the chut thai sold at the bazaar couldn’t compare to the sparkle and clarity of Jackson’s necklace. While he was feeling it in his hands and looking it over, Bambam felt Jackson smooth his hand up Bambam’s right leg. “You have such a beautiful body...too bad you can’t nourish it yourself.”

Bambam squatted down, now eye level with Jackson. He thought Jackson was ready to begin, but Jackson made no move, only continuing to stare. Bambam braced his hands on Jackson's shoulders and moved to straddle his hips, maintaining eye contact. Jackson welcomed this, placing his hands on Bambam’s thighs. Bambam closed his eyes and leaned forward, but Jackson stopped him. “I won’t kiss you.” Bambam understood. Some people didn’t like it. Instead, Jackson kissed his cheek, his ear, his neck, his chest. He was so soft and gentle, and Bambam shuddered under his touch.

Jackson pulled back, his hand tracing down Bambam’s chest over his protrusive ribs, and down his stomach. “Ha ha, your belly’s poking out.” Bambam did admit he felt a little bloated after eating much more than normal. Suddenly, Jackson was cradling his balls, and Bambam’s breath got caught in his throat, then Jackson was stroking his dick with such precision and skill that Bambam came almost instantly. Luckily, Bambam had only ejaculated on himself, missing Jackson's immaculate white t-shirt. Bambam was panting and at a loss for words, not that he would have said anything normally. If Jackson wasn’t holding him by his lower back, he would have fallen off the bed. “Too much?” Jackson asked, half smirking, half concerned.

“I...I don’t…” Bambam was in heaven. He had never come so fast or hard in his life. Jackson released his hold on Bambam and Bambam fell back against the bed, still too blissed out to catch himself.

“Rest easy. I’ll do the heavy lifting.” Bambam watched Jackson toss his shirt to the side and noticed the toned and muscular body previously hiding underneath. He had never been jerked off like that before nor had such a good-looking client. Today really was his lucky day.

Jackson teased Bambam by stroking his still sensitive dick, and Bambam’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. Jackson instructed Bambam to spit on Jackson's fingers, then proceeded to smear the saliva over Bambam’s anus. Bambam mentally prepared himself. “Is this okay?” Jackson asked as his fingers danced circles around Bambam’s perineum. Bambam nodded and Jackson pushed his index finger inside. Bambam was okay. He had prepared himself a bit in the shower already. Soon, a second and third finger was wiggling around inside Bambam. It already felt good, but because Jackson was proving to be so good, Bambam knew it could feel even better. He felt Jackson's eyes on his face the whole time. He wasn’t even faking the faces and noises he was making, he couldn’t stop them if he wanted to. And then Jackson’s fingers were gone. Bambam’s head lolled up, surprise and anticipation written across his features. Jackson removed his pants and Bambam watched as Jackson began to stroke himself. “Come,” Jackson said, composed, eyes boring into Bambam. Bambam was not so composed, his dick getting hard again, hair mused, as he crawled closer. He understood Jackson’s invitation and immediately put his mouth over Jackson’s head, lazily bobbing up and down, trying to get a grip again.

Just as Bambam felt he could really give Jackson a blowjob, did Jackson cut him off. “Stop.” He pulled his dick out of Bambam’s mouth, only to have it smack against Bambam’s cheek as Jackson spoke his next command: “Lay down again.”

Bambam obliged, lifting his legs as well, because what else could Jackson want besides to finish him, off? But Jackson pushed Bambam’s legs back down, instead, moving his fingers in and out of Bambam and stroking his dick again. Bambam kicked at the air, and let out a scream of frustration and pleasure. He wanted Jackson to finish him off. He wanted to feel his dick pump inside him as his magical hands made him come again.

And just when Bambam was about to voice this complaint was Jackson removing his fingers and dragging Bambam closer so he could finally, and truly, fuck him.

Jackson leaned down close at first, so Bambam’s dick was smushed between both their bellies, and Jackson’s nipples dragged over Bambam’s. Bambam moaned, involuntarily hugging Jackson and wanting him closer. He had never known such pleasure, and it only became twofold once Jackson started moving inside of him. Bambam wanted to melt through the bed, Jackson was so good. And just when he thought he was peaking again and would come from just his ass, had Jackson began to stroke Bambam’s dick again. Bambam was shaking, sweating, ready to tip over the edge. He stared into Jackson's face, their foreheads resting on each other, while Jackson was looking down at the motions beneath him. Bambam wanted to kiss him, wanted to know how good that felt since everything else felt amazing. He could honestly admit he was dick drunk and wanted to be forever.

After one more pump of Jackson’s hip and stroke of his hand, Bambam came. He saw stars, then white, and heard nothing. The only sense of five working was touch. He felt ignited, fuzzy, prickly all over, then deeply relaxed, the world coming back to him. He lay on the bed doing nothing, staring at the ceiling. He finally woke up from his daze when he noticed Jackson was dressed again, and not smelling of sweat and sex, but of perfume when Jackson bent down to cradle his head and softly kiss his cheek.

Bambam sat up immediately, stiffly. He was flustered and a bit smitten. Jackson sat back down on the edge of the bed. “As promised, your money is on the table.” Bambam’s eyes flashed to the paper on the table, then back to Jackson. “The room is reserved for the whole night, so you can sleep here if you want.” Jackson was quiet for a moment, and Bambam was figuratively on the edge of his seat in anticipation of what Jackson would say next. “I had fun, Bambam.” And the look in his eyes told Bambam he meant it.

But as Bambam watched him leave, a part of him still wished he knew what a kiss from Jackson felt like.


	2. Chapter 2

Bambam left the hotel around noon the next day, after sleeping like the dead. Jackson had given him so much money he almost didn’t believe it was real. Usually he made about 900-3000 baht, but Jackson had given him over 30,000. He jumped for joy, took another even longer shower, then left to buy new clothes and more food with his newfound fortune. 

A new haircut, holeless clothes, and many full bellies later, Bambam was waking up again on the street to a different rat trying to nibble his toe off. Bambam kicked it into the wall and away from him, feeling the all too familiar feeling of hunger. His money from Jackson had run out days ago, and although it had been nearly half of the hot season since he last saw him, Bambam couldn’t help but think of him every day. It was because of  Jackson that Bambam’s hair wasn’t falling into his eyes and down his shoulders, it was because of Jackson that Bambam slept warmer at night in clothes without holes, or stains that weren’t clogged with dirt. It was Jackson that made sure Bambam gained back a few kilos, and it was Jackson who gave to Bambam indescribable pleasure. Every day he had hoped Jackson would wander back into the bazaar and give all those things to Bambam again, but so far, he was absent.

He was working the streets today but was finding no luck. He understood not everyone wanted to fuck a young teenage boy, but a lot of people did, so what gives? Where, were the creepy old men that usually wanted him? A few misses were fine, but he had been missing for days and was getting desperate. Walking down the dirt road in the bazaar, Bambam stuck to the shadows, scoping out potential customers. You quickly learned who was and wasn’t potential clientele. There was always a look, a gaze, an air about them. Whether it was the addict, the pervert, the geezer, the virgin, etc. you became familiar with the type that wanted your services. The ones that Bambam saw weren’t biting the bait, so he gave up for the moment, and upon seeing the familiar fruit vendor, scooted closer to the bananas. His hand was about to pick one up, but it stopped at the sound of a familiar voice. “One banana, please.” Eyes wide in disbelief, he looked to his left.

“Just my luck, I found who I was looking for.” Jackson smiled under the brim of a blue baseball cap, lips moving to reveal the whitest teeth Bambam had ever seen. He put his hand out for Bambam to take the fruit. “You haven’t changed, have you, Bambam?”

Bambam’s breath caught and he blushed, urging his dick not to get hard at just the sight, the memories of Jackson. “Jackson,” he said breathlessly. “I missed you.”

Although Bambam was being brutally honest, Jackson interpreted his words as flirting, and chuckled. “You look good,” he commented looking Bambam up and down hungrily beneath the shield of his ballcap. Bambam was dirty, but he could have been dirtier, but more importantly, his hair was shorter and his clothes were newer than the ones Jackson had last see him in: a white tank top and thin, dark blue pants. Bambam shivered. “Take a walk with me?”

Bambam couldn’t have said yes faster, and soon he was walking side by side with Jackson, down through the bazaar again. Jackson was buying Bambam snacks again and Bambam was talking wholeheartedly, finding comfort and trust in Jackson, who had only been good to him. They had only interacted one time, and Bambam knew any interaction after had the opportunity to go sour, but strangely, he trusted Jackson. “I still have your necklace,” Bambam said eagerly, pulling it out from under his collar to show Jackson the proof.

“Keep it, it looks good on you.” Jackson murmured, fingering the silver chain of the necklace and Bambam’s neck simultaneously.

“Thank you,” Bambam whispered. He couldn’t will his voice any louder, if he did, he might moan. He was swooning just from Jackson’s touch. It was crazy, really, and Bambam knew it. Just why the hell was he so affected by Jackson?!

He looked up, Jackson’s face was close, and again, Bambam wanted to kiss him. Jackson's fingers moved up, a soft stroke of Bambam’s ear, then gliding through Bambam’s short black hair.

“When did you cut it?” Jackson hadn’t even glanced at Bambam hair, keeping his gaze into Bambam’s eyes.

“A few days after I met you.” Bambam was mesmerized again, Jackson’s gaze hot and heavy on him.

“I like it, you should keep this style.” Bambam nodded, knowing he would steal the scissors from the salon just to keep his hair the way Jackson wanted. Jackson ran a thumb over Bambam’s lip, then flicked it up to lick it. Bambam’s eyes were locked on Jackson's mouth. “Curry sauce,” Jackson explained. Never in his life would Bambam have thought he would be jealous of a curry sauce. And then Jackson's hands were on his face, pressing their foreheads together as if they were about to kiss and reminding Bambam of the last time Jackson was inside of him. “How have you been, Bambam?” Jackson whispered on his mouth and Bambam was going crazy.

“I…” He was delirious, captured in Jackson’s gaze, his smell, his touch.

“You missed me, didn’t you?” BamBam was absolutely sure his dick was hard and Jackson knew it too by how close they were standing. And with that knowledge, Jackson whisked them away to a new hotel.

 

Jackson hadn't bothered to offer Bambam a shower and Bambam was too tranced to remember water existed. Jackson guided Bambam to the bed, where he hovered over Bambam, kissing his neck. Bambam was like an instrument being tuned, making a new noise every new place Jackson touched him. 

He was falling apart from Jackson’s hand gliding over his chest, occasionally brushing his nipples. His dick had never been so hard in his life, and he almost came when Jackson wrapped his hand around it.

He had felt a bit embarrassed, reflecting back on their first time, when Bambam came almost immediately. And this time he told himself he would at least try to hold back a bit. “Look,” Jackson whispered. Again, Jackson stroked him, and Bambam stared, as Jackson had instructed him to do so. He couldn’t look away from Jackson's hand on his dick if he wanted. Too mesmerized to look away, Bambam forgot what he promised, and his ejaculate had smeared all over his stomach, neck, and now face. Dazed and panting heavily, Bambam felt Jackson’s tongue glide across his face to lap up the cum, but he still didn’t kiss him. He felt Jackson move away, but Bambam clung on. 

“Please,” Bambam tried to sit up. “I wanna touch you too.”

Jackson cupped the back of his head and gave him a kiss on the forehead, removing the hands clinging to his shirt for dear life. “Until next time,” he whispered, then vanished. Bambam curled in on himself and crumpled to the floor, tears streaming down his face.

 

Bambam was heartbroken and he didn’t know why. He spent the night in the hotel again, and Jackson left him twice as much money as last time, but he still felt rejected. Why didn’t Jackson let Bambam touch him? Why did he leave so suddenly? Why did he give Bambam this necklace when he couldn’t even kiss him? Perhaps, Bambam was overthinking this, but he had never felt more than what he was in his life: a prostitute, a whore, a quick fuck, a stupid kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Converting the baht to dollars:  
> 900-3000 = $30-$100  
> 30,000 = $1000


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a long time since Bambam had last seen Jackson. He hadn’t ventured near the fruit stand, because he was still mad at Jackson, and didn't want to risk seeing him. Although Jackson had proved to be Bambam’s best client, Bambam didn’t need him.

Bambam had lost all the weight he had gained since knowing Jackson, and his hair was long, and his clothes were in tatters again. But Bambam could have been worse off. The tourist season was high, so there was a lot of leftover food in the dumpsters, and Bambam didn’t need to work his usual job because of the occasional donations he received from pitying tourists. He had switched from prostituting to begging, and so far, it was a smart career decision. He looked weak and frail, but not as gruesome of some of the other beggars with deformities and diseases. People weren’t as disturbed when they saw him, so he was first choice to receive their money.

Things were looking up for Bambam, the only problem being the gang violence creeping into the city. It wasn’t enough to perturb the tourists, but it was fucking things up in the underground. A lot of prostitutes were being abducted and murdered, and drug use was rising again. If Bambam started prostituting again, and it was only a matter of time, he would be at high risk to the mercy of the gang crossfire.

 

Bambam’s luck was running dry. The hot season was approaching and the tourists were leaving. Bambam knew he would die soon if continued to only live off of begging. He had to start selling his body, he didn’t have a choice. He had seen the dead body of a woman in a dumpster he was diving in days ago, and was stricken with fear at the thought of him being next.

He didn’t see the ladies on the corner anymore, and he didn’t know if it was because they went into hiding or because they had died too. Nowhere was safe in Pattaya. Bambam had moved all over the city, and he heard the same thing everywhere he went:  _ Get off the streets, move to the capital, they’re merciless! _

Bambam was lying as low as possible, he was still able to find customers, but it was always at the cost of his safety. Once a gang member knew he was doing business on their turf without their permission, it was lights out. But Bambam could never imagine, as he lay down to sleep in the alley far away from the heart of the city, that the next morning would be when everything came to a head.

 

“Kid,”  _ boink, boink _ .

Bleary-eyed, Bambam woke up to a gruff voice and something poking his forehead.

“Hey, Kid.”  _ Boink boink _ . There it was again. Then Bambam realized it was a gun being tapped against his head. “That’s it, wake up, get up.” Bambam’s eyes moved away from the gun and up at the source of the voice. It was an underling. He wasn’t very powerful, considering he looked worse for wear and his clothes were almost as ragged as Bambam’s. But he still had a gun pointed at Bambam’s face and that was enough to scare the shit out of Bambam. “I’ve got a job for you, and if you refuse, I’ll kill you.” He scratched the scruff on his chin, motioning with his gun for Bambam to stand up. This was it. After avoiding the gangs for so long, they had finally found him.

Bambam obeyed, his legs wobbling from fear and sleep. The gangster cuffed Bambam’s neck and brought him in close, close enough that Bambam could smell his hard, stale breath and count the pores on his skin. “Ever been a runner before?” He wanted Bambam to run drugs across the border, into China maybe, what else was a scrawny street rat good for? If he didn’t run he would die, if he ran, he could die too, probably in a prison overseas.

“… No.” Bambam squirmed under his grip, too weak to shake him off. The gangster grinned, his rotten teeth almost touching Bambam’s face. He shook his leg, shaking Bambam with him, once, twice, thrice. Bambam looked down to see the rat from earlier had returned with another, even bigger rat to chew on the gangster's leg. He dropped Bambam and started swatting at his leg, trying to beat the rats with the barrel of his gun. He carelessly threw the gun aside to instead pick them up and hurl them across the alley, only to have them smack against a passerby on main street. 

During this commotion, Bambam was thinking fast. He grabbed the gun from the ground and pointed it at the gangster’s face when he looked away from the main street.

He didn’t wanna kill him. God knows what would happen if Bambam killed him, and he was found out. Panicking, Bambam pulled the trigger and shot towards the ground. The gangster yelled and Bambam tore off, running down main street as fast as he could.

He broke out in a cold sweat after his adrenaline wore off, he couldn’t make it much farther, he wasn’t strong enough.

He realized he ended back at his old hangout, the bazaar, and he was close to the fruit stand. His body was about to give out soon, he couldn't hold out anymore. Another 500 meters of Bambam dragging his feet along the spit and shit stained dirt, and he reached the fruit stand. And to his surprise, there he was, glorious as ever, and handling a banana.  _ Jackson _ .

Bambam slammed into Jackson, clinging onto him, then falling, his legs giving out from fatigue. “Jackson, please, I…” He gulped, throat dry and closed with fear. He was sure he was hallucinating.

“Bambam,” Jackson murmured, holding him up with one arm.

“I can’t go back there. They’ve seen my face, they’ll try to kill me.” Bambam was shaking, tears threatening to flow. He was surprised he hadn’t pissed himself. Jackson's sparkly, dark eyes were peering down at him curiously, confused. “ _ Please _ ,” he begged more fervently, remembering the warnings. “I have to get out of the city.”

“... Okay.”

Jackson had quickly bought Bambam a disguise at the bazaar, then made a phone call, and soon they were riding in a rickshaw to Jackson's car. Bambam was still shaking and hadn’t let go of Jackson, except to put his disguise on. Jackson was silent and Bambam didn’t know if it made him feel better or worse.

It was only when they got inside Jackson's car did he speak. “Did you kill someone?”

Bambam shook his head no.

“But someone is trying to kill you?”

He nodded yes.

“Did you hurt somebody?”

“Yes!” Bambam blurted out, surprising himself and Jackson.

Bambam didn't know where they were driving, but he was wishing it was out of Thailand, out of Asia even.


	4. Chapter 4

Past the dirt roads and villages outside of Pattaya, they ended up in another city. “Have you ever been to Bangkok?” Jackson inquired. 

“No.” Bambam murmured, still clutching the billowy clothes of his disguise for strength.

“Then welcome.” Jackson was pulling into a building with a lot of cars, then guiding them up an elevator to the highest floor. Bambam had clung to him again once they got out of the car, and was still holding Jackson once they were in the elevator and even inside Jackson’s apartment.

“You're safe now,” Jackson whispered, kissing Bambam's hair.

“I know.” Bambam’s voice shook, and being next to Jackson made him feel better. But even though Bambam had seen the security cameras, guards outside the building, and even watched as Jackson locked the door, some irrational fear in his mind was telling him to be careful. 

“How about you take a shower?” Jackson suggested, walking towards the bathroom.

Bambam was filthy, he knew. He felt bad for Jackson having to stand so close to him when he smelled like trash, but he couldn’t let Jackson go right now. “I don't wanna be alone.”

“Okay.” Jackson moved Bambam in the direction of the bathroom and started peeling off his disguise, then his rags. Bambam was still shaking so much, he was incapable of doing it himself. Jackson turned the water on and adjusted the temperature. Jackson unbuttoned his own dark dress shirt, then slid off his pants. He helped Bambam into the shower first, then went in himself. As the warm water ran over them, Jackson gently washed Bambam’s dirt and tear-stained face, body, and hair. Bambam held onto Jackson’s waist to stop from trembling. He was finding comfort in Jackson’s presence, toned body, and calm visage. Bambam was becoming more relaxed by the heat of the shower and the distance they had made between themselves and the scene from earlier. He looked down into the shower drain, brown suds swirling through the holes at the bottom as Jackson washed his hair. Bambam was raving earlier asking Jackson for help, he had never been so scared in his life. He was surprised, now that his mind was halfway returned to him, that Jackson agreed so easily to help Bambam. He was surprised he was here in Bangkok, and even more surprised he was in Jackson’s house with Jackson washing away the dirt and fear. He didn’t think he was that important to Jackson, but it made him feel a little bit better to know that he cared enough to do all of this for him. 

 

“You can sleep wherever you want.” Jackson had already offered Bambam his bedroom, the guest room and living room as options, after dressing Bambam in Jackson’s silk pajama set that hung off his thin frame.

“I want to sleep with you,” Bambam said seriously. He could hold off from touching Jackson, but he still wasn’t ready to be left alone with his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jackson consented easily.

Finally, snuggled into Jackson’s bed in the pitch black darkness, Bambam squirmed his way to lie his head on Jackson’s bare chest. “Thank you... I’m sorry I made you do this.” Bambam hid his face in Jackson’s shoulder, tears brimming, the days' events, and stress, coming back to him.

“Don’t be sorry. I wanted to help you.” Jackson was tracing circles along Bambam’s back.

“It’s just that... I was going to die, and you were there, and I missed you…”

“I know. You were in trouble. I’m glad to have helped you.”

“No, you don’t understand.” So Bambam rambled on and on to Jackson about life in the streets, his life since Jackson upset him, and the change in street culture. He whined about the gangs, the rats, how hungry he was always, and how confused he was that Jackson gave him his necklace. He talked about Pattaya, Bangkok, the dead woman in the dumpster, being a beggar, and all the moldy rice and cockroaches he had eaten. And he told Jackson about how he is the only person he has enjoyed having sex with.

 

The next morning Bambam had slept like the dead again. He was warm, cozy, comfortable. Such soft fabric stroked his skin, and he smiled remembering he was at Jackson’s place. He reached over, searching for Jackson’s body, but Jackson wasn’t there. Bambam shot up, looking around the room, but he wasn’t in the bedroom at all. “Jackson ~.” He called worriedly down the hall, peeking into the kitchen. 

There he was fully dressed and talking on the phone, near the window, in a language Bambam didn’t understand. He stood in the doorway, watching Jackson shift and walk around as he talked. Jackson was wearing a loose linen button up that wasn’t fully buttoned and black cotton pants. He still had on lots of jewelry and his hair was unkempt but still sexy. Jackson hung up the phone, and Bambam remained where he stood.

Jackson turned around surprised, then smiled. “Morning.”

Bambam went to him immediately, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in Jackson’s chest. “Thank you.”

Jackson placed a hand on Bambam’s head. "Are you hungry?"

“Always!” Bambam chirped. So Jackson ordered room service. Jackson calmly chewed his toast and sipped his tea, while Bambam inhaled his eggs, rice, and fish. Somewhere in between still being hungry and feeling like he was about to throw up, did Bambam glance up at Jackson again. Jackson felt his gaze and returned it, raising an eyebrow. 

“Where are you from?” Bambam asked.

“China.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Why are you in Thailand?”

“To meet pretty boys like you.” They stared at each other for a moment. Jackson was joking, but Bambam didn't see it like that. That was a very real thing that people did. But to Bambam, Jackson wasn’t being honest.

“Are you married?”

“No,” Jackson smiled.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.” He smiled wider.

“What’s your job?”

“Projects management.”

They paused again to stare at each other while Bambam was remembering all the times Jackson had done something he couldn’t quite understand.

“Why did you stop me from stealing the banana?”

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble. If I bought it, you wouldn’t have to steal it.” Jackson answered matter of factly.

“Why did you give me your necklace?”

“I wanted you to have it.”

“Why did you help me?”

Jackson inhaled and looked out the window, then he put his cup down and smiled at Bambam. Jackson realized Bambam wasn’t holding back from his game of twenty questions.

“I like you.”

“But you don’t kiss me.” Bambam didn't expect Jackson to kiss him romantically. His job wasn’t built on romance. He was bothered because he felt that Jackson did not trust him. If Jackson was familiar enough to smuggle him out of Pattaya, then why couldn't he kiss him? It didn’t mean anything serious,  so why couldn’t he do it? Bambam’s gaze on Jackson was one of disdain and Jackson watched him carefully. “I know why people like you don’t do it, I’m not dumb. You don’t want to kiss me because you think I’m dirty and have a disease, or because you think boys are gross.”

“I told you I liked you. I don’t think you’re dirty or gross.”

“Then why don’t you do it?”

“If I had known it was that important to you, I would have done it.” Bambam looked away, unsure of what to ask next, confused as fuck, and Jackson understood his dissatisfaction. “Look, it’s just too intimate. The first night I met you, I didn’t know you, and I didn't want to. I was trying to keep it professional.”

Bambam scowled. “You failed.”

“I know.”

Bambam looked back at Jackson and Jackson’s eyes were boring a hole into Bambam. Bambam continued: “why did you leave the second time?”

“I had an early flight,” Jackson spoke over the brim of his teacup. “I shouldn't have gone to see you in the first place, but... I did. It’s the same reason you saw me yesterday. I had wanted to see you. I was looking for you.”

Bambam wasn’t so convinced by everything Jackson had said. He knew a lie when he saw it. Jackson wasn’t being as honest as Bambam was last night, spilling his whole guts to Jackson. What reason did Jackson have to hold back?

Bambam frowned, chewing his lip in consternation, “You’re not being honest with me.”

“What do you want me to tell you?” Jackson implored, slightly amused.

“Why were you looking for me, and why are you really in Thailand? You’re not being fair.”

Jackson hummed, trying not to smile. “I’m in Thailand for business, and in Pattaya for the same reason, everyone else is. And, again, I was looking for you because I like you.”

Bambam weighed his response. “Are you sure you’re not married?” Jackson seemed like he would be. He was attractive, older, and established. Bambam had been with dozens of married men. They could tell him as many nice things as they wanted, but they always had their loyalties elsewhere.

“I’m sure.”

“When I propositioned you, that wasn’t the first time you went to Pattaya?”

“No.”

Bambam rested his chin on his hand, and blew his hair out of his face. “Who else did you fuck? Maybe I know them,” he asked nonchalantly, the hard questions over. 

Jackson snorted. “No one. I just wanted to see what it was all about. I didn’t plan on having sex with anyone.”

“Then why did you have sex with me?”

“I don't really know…” Jackson said distantly. “You were pretty filthy trying to steal that banana. I couldn't believe someone this young and grimy was a sex worker until you asked.” His words didn't bother Bambam. He knew they were true. He’d heard them before. Jackson’s eyes rolled back to Bambam. “But I knew I wanted you.”

A line he’d heard and said a hundred times. Bambam thought the answer was acceptable. “Okay.”

“I’m serious.” Jackson’s face was somber, and Bambam hugged his legs to his chest, listening. “I’m going to make you an offer, but you don’t have much time to make your decision.”

Bambam was expecting sex, that’s all he and Jackson did anyways, and so he started talking about it. “I don’t mind if we have sex now. You wanna do it here?”

“No, not that.” A smile cracked through Jackson’s solemn demeanor. “I want to take you with me to China.” He let his words sink in for a minute. “My time in Thailand is over, and I don’t have a reason to stay. If you come with me, you can live with me and I can find you a job, or you can go to school if you want.” Jackson walked over to Bambam on the other side of the island. He ruffled Bambam’s hair and stroked his cheek. “You won’t have to prostitute yourself or beg anymore.” He said softly.

With the barrier of touch being broken, Bambam was caught up; he was right where Jackson wanted him, enthralled and ready to do anything he asked. He held onto Jackson’s wrist, craving more contact. Jackson rested his forehead against Bambam’s and Bambam’s stomach twisted, was he finally going to kiss him? Jackson made no movement, and Bambam couldn’t help himself, closing his eyes and pushing up, but Jackson stopped him with a finger. Bambam’s eyelids fluttered open, disappointed. “If you kiss me, I’ll understand it as a yes.” Bambam didn't hesitate, grabbing Jackson’s face and smashing their lips together.


	5. Chapter 5

Jackson had given Bambam a new set of his clothes to borrow until they went shopping in Hong Kong. As it turned out, Jackson had already booked a flight leaving that afternoon, all he needed was Bambam's confirmation. Both of their tickets were already purchased. Bambam kissed Thailand goodbye out the window of Jackson's car and stood amazed at the airport and air travel. Jackson snoozed while Bambam stared out of the plane window the entire flight.

 

Bambam was glad to be with Jackson in China. He bought Bambam new clothes, a haircut, and a lot of his own things like a phone, a comb, and a toothbrush. Jackson was also teaching Bambam new things, like how to brush his teeth and use a microwave. By now, it was comfortable but boring. Bambam was usually left alone trying to figure out how to cook rice in the microwave while Jackson was at work, and Jackson was busy until late. Bambam couldn’t understand Chinese, and he couldn’t read it either, so he spent most of his time trying to understand the Chinese dramas and variety shows while waiting for Jackson to return home from work.

But one thing Jackson always made time for was sex. Before work and after work was the schedule. Sometimes Bambam would initiate by kissing Jackson just a little bit harder or tugging on his pants. Or Jackson would start it by groping Bambam through his pajamas or running his hands through his hair. 

Bambam was glad he had decided to leave Thailand with Jackson. He had a warm bed to sleep in and as much food as he wanted. He was gaining weight, and he felt healthy and happy for the first time in his life. He was learning to rely on someone, something he could never afford to do in Thailand.

Bambam was still mesmerized by Jackson's sexual prowess. Just his presence, or a look, one touch, was enough to get him hard. He deeply appreciated everything about Jackson: his body, his face, his house, his belongings, his energy, his ideas, his sex. Bambam had never known another person so well before. He knew Jackson better than he knew himself. 

Jackson was fiddling on his phone when he came home, decked out in a black suit and tie, his black trench coat and briefcase hung over his arm. Bambam looked on from the couch in admiration. Everything in Jackson’s world was opulent, from his luxurious high-rise apartment in the city center to his expensive leather furniture to his tasteful decorations to his gourmet food, to his well-tailored clothes, and to Jackson himself. Bambam occasionally pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, that he was really here, well-clothed, fed and taken care of, and not crying from hunger under a gutter late at night in Thailand. He loved Jackson more than he could put into words.

Bambam slowly stood up and hugged Jackson. “I’m busy,” Jackson muttered, not taking his eyes off the screen. But Bambam had his fingers locked into Jackson’s shirt and wasn’t letting go. They stood like that for a few minutes, Bambam clinging to Jackson, his face buried into his shirt, and Jackson typing away on his phone.

Bambam heard Jackson’s phone ping as he locked his screen and felt Jackson’s eyes on him. “Bambam,” he said ruffling his hair. “Look at me.”

Bambam conceded, showing Jackson his wet face.

Jackson’s eyes enlarged. “Why are you crying?”

Bambam shook his head. “It’s nothing.” Bambam didn’t know why he was crying. “I’m glad you’re home, I missed you.”

Jackson tilted Bambam’s head up and kissed him, smiling. “I missed you too.”

 

Recently, Jackson had been doing a lot more for Bambam than he normally did. Instead of just necessities, and some nice things here and there, Bambam was being bestowed gifts. Electronics, Jewelry, flowers, cakes, and anything else he thought Bambam might like. He was teaching Bambam to read Thai and Chinese, and Jackson was even trying to give Bambam citizenship.

_ “How old are you?” _

_ “Seventeen.” _

_ “When's your birthday?” _

_ “I don't know. I made one up. It's before the hot season.” _

Bambam was noticing the change but wasn’t sure what it meant. “Jackson,” He said in the middle of a Chinese lesson.

“Yes?” Jackson propped his head up behind his arm to get a better look at Bambam.

Bambam was getting lost in his eyes, losing his point of focus. “I just wanted to tell you that Bambam’s not my real name. It’s Kunpimook.”

Jackson stared, then grinned. “My real name’s not Jackson either, it’s Kayee.”

Bambam had chickened out.

 

Jackson came home one day with a huge flower pot. Inside was the yellow ratchaphruek Bambam had only remembered in Thailand. “Jackson…” he said wistfully, returning the deep kiss he was given.

“It’s so you don’t miss home as much.”

Bambam was speechless. He gave Jackson the biggest hug his skinny arms could muster, and Jackson fucked him stupid all night long. 


	6. Chapter 6

A month before Chinese New Year was when Jackson really went over the top. He had explained how important it was for Chinese people and that Jackson needed to go away for a few weeks to be with his family. Bambam understood that he couldn't go, even though he wanted to meet Jackson's family. How would Jackson explain the 17-year-old Thai boy he had figuratively adopted? In consolation, he gave Bambam a laptop and a very luxurious chut Thai and plenty Chinese New Year's gifts. Bambam was floored, from all the gifts Jackson had been giving him and couldn't stop himself from rushing to show his love to Jackson. He gave him a blowjob on the spot, and kissed him for hours on end.

“Your lips are so plush…” Jackson murmured, his index finger prodding Bambam's lower lip, as Bambam laid on his chest. They were even plusher now from all the kissing. Bambam smiled happily, accepting the compliment. Jackson stared at Bambam a moment longer. “Do you know how hard it was  _ not  _ to kiss you when I first fucked you?” He ran his hands through Bambam’s hair.

“I wanted to kiss you too,” Bambam admitted shyly. 

“Then do it,” Jackson egged. And Bambam did, picking up where they left off, sticking his tongue down Jackson's throat until they were a slurping, dripping mess. “Lay down,” Jackson demanded. Bambam obliged him always. Now Jackson was on top, kissing Bambam harder and heavier, nearly sucking his tongue out off his skull. His hands pushed Bambam's tank top up to run his fingers up and down his torso, finally settling on Bambam's nipples. Bambam was getting dizzy, intoxicated off of Jackson.

Jackson teased, tongued, then sucked Bambam's nipples until Bambam was fully erect, nearly shaking underneath him from pleasure. He moved down further, kissing along his stomach until he pulled Bambam's dick from the waistband of his sweats. 

Jackson didn't make it a point to give Bambam many blowjobs, but when he did, they were always spectacular. If Bambam thought Jackson’s hand jobs were fatal, his blowjobs were next level. 

Bambam couldn't even warn Jackson, he was too deep in it, but Jackson knew Bambam well enough to know he never lasted long, and easily swallowed most of his cum. Jackson moved back up Bambam's body, kissing him deeply, Bambam’s cum being transferred to Bambam's mouth. Bambam’s eyes flew open at the taste of his own cum, but Jackson didn’t stop kissing him. Bambam squeezed Jackson's bicep, and gently kneed his ribs from surprise, his cum dribbling out of both their mouths and down Bambam's cheek.

Dazed and confused, and drunk with pleasure, Bambam didn't notice Jackson's dick get hard on his stomach when they were making out. At the loss of his own pants, had Bambam realized to look down. Jackson was generously applying lube to his own dick, as well as Bambam's dick and anus. He jerked himself off a little bit, then started fingering Bambam, too well, because Bambam nearly came.

Jackson gave Bambam a moment to recollect himself, so he didn’t come too early, then he flipped Bambam over, so Bambam's ass was in the air, and Jackson could fuck him from behind. “ _ Ah, ah, ah- _ ” Bambam was moaning from each thrust, his face planted into the sheets, his hard-on slapping against his stomach in unison with Jackson's thrusts. 

Bambam came first, nearly crumpling and rolling off the bed, his body like gratified jello, but Jackson held him in place, so he could keep fucking into him. But Jackson didn't finish inside Bambam, instead, after a few more thrusts, he pulled out and came onto Bambam's face.

“Clean it,” he whispered to Bambam, and Bambam slowly complied. 

Bambam was officially spent, just like every time they fucked, and he loved it, loved that Jackson could make him feel this way. Jackson too, felt more relaxed than normal, as he silently stroked Bambam's arm. Even sweaty, hair disheveled, and tired, Bambam couldn’t help but feel overjoyed by Jackson and everything he represented for Bambam. Bambam tousled Jackson's hair playfully, smiling contentedly, wishing there was more in his power he could do for someone who cared for him so much. Nonetheless, he was glowing, his heart swelling with every beat. He was feeling emotions bubble inside of him that he had never felt before. He bit his lip, completely mesmerized. “Do you love me?” 

Jackson looked at Bambam, eyes wide, then he looked away. He didn’t say anything, and Bambam waited for his answer. When Bambam realized Jackson wasn’t going to say anything, he stopped smiling. “You...don’t…” Bambam was trying to keep his voice even, regulated. His throat was thick, his stomach churned.

It didn't make sense. How could Jackson not love Bambam? How else could he feel? He gave him everything he ever wanted and more. How  _ did  _ Jackson feel? Bambam loved him so much it was hurting, and right now, not in a good way. 

“I don’t wanna talk about this,” Jackson muttered under his breath, sitting up and moving away from Bambam.

Bambam was shocked, tears slipping down his flushed cheeks. He didn’t wanna talk about it? Since when did Jackson not wanna talk? And why was this such a difficult subject? What did anything between them mean anymore? “Jackson,” Bambam tried to start the conversation again.

“I just can’t say it.”

“Can't say what?”

Jackson didn't respond.

Bambam wanted to scream, cry, shout, and hurt Jackson the way Jackson was hurting him right now. 

If Jackson couldn’t say how he really felt then Bambam wouldn’t either. And with that, he got up and promptly made his way to the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Bambam screamed into the pillow, hot angry tears, flowing everywhere as he cried himself to sleep alone.

 

Bambam woke up to a note on the counter saying that Jackson had left for a business trip to Malaysia. It could be true, but Bambam had felt Jackson left because of what he said last night.

Again, Jackson was making Bambam feel what he knew was true deep inside. It didn’t matter if he bought him nice things, let him live with him, and saved him from the mess he created in Thailand. He was still just a whore; he always would be. He was never really that special to Jackson, and he just needed to accept it.


	7. Chapter 7

Bambam was okay with Jackson being busy, being distant. He had stepped out of line earlier, he knew he was being punished. But why was Jackson shutting him out like this?

Jackson was hardly home anymore. He only slept here a few nights a week, and when he did it was only to sleep. He didn’t kiss Bambam goodbye, he hardly spoke to him, and he was making Bambam stay in the guest room. He just didn’t understand where he stood with Jackson, he never did.

_ “Bambam, it’s not you, it’s me. I just need time to think.”  _ That was the bullshit he had been saying for the past few weeks. Bambam had actually started keeping track of time, whereas before he never had to. The hot season, the wet season, and the cool season were all he ever needed to worry about in Thailand, but China was different. Now that Jackson had taught him how to tell time and count the days in a week and month, life and waiting for Jackson, had become unbearably slow.

Jackson needed time? Time to think about what? Bambam soon found his answer in the back of Jackson's closet: time to think about how much he still loved Jinyoung.

Bambam had found out about Jinyoung by snooping. It wasn’t intentional, he hadn’t meant to be nosy, but he was home alone so often it wasn’t hard to go unnoticed. At first, he just wanted to think about Jackson, so he would wear his clothes, lay in his bed, handle his jewelry. Then he started looking at things a little more closely for a little longer. The amount of diamonds in a necklace, the code of a watch, etc. Jackson was sentimental. He kept pictures, letters, ticket stubs, gift receipts, and other memorabilia, out in the open and in hiding. Bambam went inside all of Jackson's compartments and drawers in his closet and house trying to find out more, when he stumbled across a box. The hanzi on the top said ‘memories’. He opened it immediately and had figured out through all of this crap that Jackson had saved over the years, that Jackson had an ex-boyfriend, Jinyoung. They had met five years ago and broke up two years ago, but by the dating on some of these items, they were still in touch now. Jackson had pictures of Jinyoung in a doctor’s uniform, at parties, on beaches, and on the back of each Polaroid was a long description of the event.

What infuriated Bambam was that there were items collected of him too. His plane ticket stub to China, and little notes he had written Jackson in Chinese. If he was important enough to be kept in this box like Jinyoung, then why was he being ignored?!


	8. Chapter 8

Jackson was exhausted, exhausted and conflicted. And it wasn’t helping that he was sitting across from Jinyoung in a coffee shop of Jinyoung’s choosing.

Jackson cursed internally. He was already relinquishing power by letting Jinyoung decide where they met. The situation was somehow made worse by the fact that Jinyoung looked just as good as ever in his dark navy suit and gelled black hair. Not a gray hair or blemish in sight. Damn Jinyoung and his perfection. He looked like a model from a suit catalog, stress free and sipping his coffee with delight, while Jackson looked and felt like a carbon copy corporate employee chewed up and spit out. Jinyoung hadn’t said why he wanted to see Jackson, but Jackson already knew why.

“How are you, Jackson?” Jinyoung said smoothly. His smile was wide, sly, and Jackson tried to ignore Jinyoung playing footsie with him under the table.

“I’m fine.”

“You look great, been working out?”

There it was, the sly comment that Jackson was waiting for, he knew where the conversation was headed. Jackson was stressed, he looked like shit.

“What do you want?” Jackson moaned. He wished he could go back to work, go back in time and turn off his phone when he read Jinyoung’s caller ID an hour ago.

“Quite presumptuous of you to assume I want something.” Jinyoung chirped back, unaffected by Jackson’s sour attitude.

“Oh, I’m wrong?” Jackson quipped, fingering the now cold coffee cup in front of him that Jinyoung had so willingly bought.

Jinyoung chuckled enough that his smile reached his eyes and crinkled around the edges the way Jackson remembered loving. “I want you, Seunie.”

Jinyoung and Jackson used to go out, but Jinyoung had cheated on him two years ago, and Jackson had never really gotten over it. But he had Bambam now, who had proven to be 100% more loyal than Jinyoung. And if all that was true, then why was Jackson seriously considering what Jinyoung had just said?

 

Jackson woke up the next morning with the worst hangover of his life. He felt even worse when he saw he was in Jinyoung’s bed in Jinyoung’s apartment. Getting up and checking his texts, Jackson pieced together how he had ended up here. 

In the morning, Bambam insisted on hugging and kissing him, even though Jackson was being less than friendly with him lately. He loved Bambam in more ways than one. He didn't want to hurt him. But with Jinyoung and his job slowly chipping away at his sanity, it was hard to come home and pretend he could act normal.

After he left home, he went to work and had his lunch break with Jinyoung, which disoriented his so much that he fucked up a major project. After that, he called Jinyoung and asked him if he wanted to get drinks at seven, and twelve shots later here he was.

There was a missed call from his mother, another from Bambam. He called Bambam first.

“Hello?”

“Bambam?” Jackson was slightly worried, guilty. Why the fuck did he call Jinyoung?

“Jackson…” Bambam sounded like he was sleeping. Jackson’s heart skipped a beat from the cuteness. “Where were you? I miss you.”

“I-” he faltered, debating over what he would say. “I had to spend the night at work. I was busy.”

“Are you coming back now or later?”

Jackson didn't want Bambam to see him like this, to know what he had done. He could freshen up in the bathroom at work to diffuse last night's shenanigans from reality. So he told Bambam to have fun at home today and that he would see him later.

 

The cycle was repeating itself. Jackson was back at Jinyoung’s house, kissing him, stripping his clothes off him, then leaving that night or the next morning with mixed feelings. Jackson loved Bambam, sure, but there would always be a special place in his heart for Jinyoung. Jinyoung wasn't his first, but he was his first serious relationship, and he just couldn't let him go. 

They had met when Jackson had just finished business school, and Jinyoung had just finished his accelerated medical program. Jackson was 22 and clueless about his next steps in life, and Jinyoung was the cute, bright-eyed, international student from Korea. They had both gone to the same school, but never met, their first interaction being at a graduation party held for the colleges of business and science at their university. Jinyoung had said something about Jackson looking like a Chinese actor famous in Korea, and Jackson couldn't believe someone this gorgeous was talking to him.

Jinyoung soon revealed himself to be a huge dork, his cool sophisticated facade melting, and Jackson fell hard and fast. Jackson had visited Jinyoung’s family in Korea, and Jinyoung had visited Jackson's family in Hong Kong. They went on vacations together, spent most of their time together, and almost moved in together. 

They dated happily for three years. But problems started around the 2.5-year mark. Both were overwhelmed with their new jobs, fighting a lot and barely having time for each other. And unbeknownst to Jackson, Jinyoung had cheated on Jackson with one of the new hires at the hospital. Jinyoung had insisted it was only one time to relieve stress since Jackson was unavailable, but Jackson wouldn’t hear it.

Jackson had never been so sad and angry in his life. He ignored Jinyoung and all his calls for six months after that. Jinyoung apologized and called continuously for three months before finally taking the hint, and stopped contacting Jackson. Jackson had needed more time to cool off before he could talk to Jinyoung again, and when he did it all started again. Jinyoung smiled that way Jackson liked or made a rude joke, and Jackson was trapped. And that's how it continued, every six months someone would contact someone and start things over again until their desire for each other had fizzled out or someone became busy too busy to continue their tryst.

It was one of the times they were off that Jackson needed to work in Thailand, and thus he met Bambam.

Jackson and Jinyoung had drifted away again two weeks prior, and three weeks into Jackson’s stay in Thailand had he met the beloved little street rat that he would one day take home.

 

Jackson had been reunited with Jinyoung only ten days ago, but it seemed that they were going to break soon because Jinyoung was already being unreasonable. Jackson had told Jinyoung they couldn’t keep running in circles the way they were, and Jinyoung said they wouldn’t have to if Jackson would just forgive him. But it wasn’t that simple for Jackson. Jinyoung wasn’t the first person to cheat on him, and Jinyoung knew that, but still did it anyway. Then Jackson told Jinyoung about Bambam just to piss him off, and it did. Jinyoung accused Jackson of the same thing, but was it really? Jackson claimed he and Jinyoung weren’t exclusive, so he could date or fuck whomever he wanted, right? Jinyoung didn’t think so and threw his alarm clock at Jackson. Jackson stormed off and swore off Jinyoung forever. That was it, he thought, he was over Jinyoung, fuck him. 

Jackson was already feeling like shit because he hadn’t seen Bambam in three days, and here Jinyoung was fighting with him about bullshit when Jackson was sacrificing Bambam’s happiness to please Jinyoung.

Jackson was trying to cool down during his drive back into the city by thinking of Bambam, but it was only making him feel even more like shit. He felt so guilty thinking about how Bambam was probably wondering where the fuck he was, where the fuck he had been.

Immediately upon seeing Bambam, Jackson gave him a bear hug, picking him up and spinning him around, twirling him. “Bambam,” Jackson sighed, relieved. 

“Jackson,” Bambam croaked, his throat thick with tears. He squeezed Jackson back, tears wetting his face, everything he had been feeling finally coming out. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled weakly into Jackson’s collar. “I don’t care if you don’t love me, just stop pushing me away,  _ please _ .” He nuzzled Jackson’s neck. “I love you and I need you, so please stay with me.”

Jackson was a bit taken aback. After his huge fight and feeling that Jinyoung couldn’t give a shit about him, it was uncomfortable to have the tables turned. He knew he wasn’t being fair to Bambam, and he had come back today to fix it, but under what circumstances? Under the circumstances that Jinyoung had pissed him off? Under the circumstances that the one first and longest in his heart was a bother, so he was preening himself for second best? “Bambam, I’m sorry.” Jackson felt like an idiot. How could he make quantifiable his feelings for Bambam? “I do love you, I do. I know it doesn’t seem like that, because I’ve been terrible, but...things are just really complicated.” He dragged a hand down his face.  _ Bambam, Jinyoung _ . He felt he was having to choose right now whom to favor.

Bambam pulled back from the hug, wiping his face with his hands. “I know it’s about Jinyoung.” He said quietly.

Jackson stood there in silence. How the hell did he know about Jinyoung? Jackson was almost positive he had never mentioned his name to Bambam. “How do you know about that?” Jackson said seriously, his expression blank. A lot of things were depending on Bambam’s answer.

“I looked in your box,” Bambam admitted.

Jackson was remembering...the chest he kept in his closet, full of mementos from his infancy to adulthood. He had his birth certificate in there, his first baby photo, letters from teachers, awards from elementary school, pictures from high school and college...pictures, notes, cards and memories of Jinyoung, memories from Bambam. He had never told Bambam about it, so why the fuck did Bambam know now? It was a chest that he wasn’t always proud he owned, but it was private nonetheless. “Why were you looking in my closet, Bambam?!” Jackson yelled, unable to control himself, taking his anger from Jinyoung out on Bambam. Bambam flinched, averting his gaze, feeling small and powerless. “Huh?!” Jackson stepped closer, invading Bambam’s space, and gripping his shoulders painfully. “It’s none of your business what I keep in there.”

Bambam winced, afraid. His heart was beating rapidly, he had never seen Jackson so upset before. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice shaking. “I just missed you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Jackson backed off and stormed into his room, then his closet, rushing for the chest. It was right where he had left it, hidden behind some shoe boxes, and leafing through it, he saw that nothing was amiss, nothing was damaged. He recollected his thoughts, calming down a bit and thinking of what to do with Bambam, who had just broken his trust. 

Still crouched on the floor and huddled over the box, Jackson turned around to see Bambam cowering in the door frame. “Why did you look through it?” Jackson called behind him, robotically, his mind neither here nor there. 

“I was... I just...missed you all the time, and I was looking at your clothes, and... I just...found it.”

Jackson stood up, digesting Bambam’s words, closing the closet door behind him. “I told you I was working,” Jackson said somberly, staring a very uncomfortable Bambam down. Bambam didn’t respond at first, probably because they both knew it wasn’t just work that was occupying Jackson's time.

Bambam hugged his arms around himself, sniffling. “I was lonely, I’m sorry.”

As Jackson stared into Bambam’s tear-stained face, his afternoon with Jinyoung was replaying in his mind. Was it Jackson's fault Bambam had looked through his things out of loneliness? Was it Jackson’s fault Jinyoung had cheated on him out of loneliness? Was Jackson the problem?

“Why didn’t you tell me you were lonely?”

Bambam didn’t say anything, unsure of what he  _ should  _ say. 

“I’m not angry, Bambam,” Jackson reassured him. It was a bit of a lie, but Jackson needed to know the truth.

“You’re never here.” Bambam started off slowly. “You were ignoring me, and I felt like you didn’t care about me anymore, and I was sad, so I looked at your clothes because they reminded me of you...then I found the box.”

What could Jackson say? Nothing for a while. He had sheltered Bambam in a way that his life revolved around Jackson, and suddenly Jackson wasn’t present. He had regretted yelling at Bambam. Jackson was the problem. He was the one who was shit at relationships and kept fucking things up.

“Kayee…” Jackson's eyebrows raised. Bambam was trying not to cry again. “I love you so much it hurts. I don’t care about Jinyoung or if you have 50 boyfriends, I just want you to spend time with me again.”

Then Jackson broke down and started crying.


	9. Chapter 9

As pissed and hurt as Bambam was at Jackson, he couldn’t take it anymore. He loved Jackson so much it was all he could think about. It was what he thought about when he woke up, and it was the last thing he thought about before he fell asleep. He loved Jackson's kindness, his nurturing side, he loved his authoritative disciplinary side, even when he was stressed out from work and taking it out on Bambam, or when his ex-boyfriend called and Jackson distanced himself from everyone.

It was love at first fuck. That was how the ladies on the corner had described it, when a dumb man fell helplessly in love with them after one night of fun. Now Bambam was that man, and deep down he knew it all along.

“Don’t come, Bambam.” Jackson threatened. He wanted to listen, but he wasn’t sure if he could.

“ _ Ah _ , Jackson.” Bambam bit his neck to try to release some of the tension and distract himself, so he wouldn’t come so fast. “Go slower.” Jackson complied, and Bambam’s arm snaked up to wrap around his neck and pull him closer.

“Can I come?” Bambam begged.

“No.”

Bambam whimpered, tears in his eyes. “I want to come, please.” Jackson didn’t answer. “ _ Kayee _ .”

“Okay.” And Bambam exploded, cum hitting him and Jackson in the face.

Jackson hadn't made anything clear since Bambam's second confession that night. All Bambam knew was that he could sleep with Jackson in his bed again, and that Jackson loved him. He snuggled up close, like he always did, playing with Jackson's necklaces and talking about nothing.

Bambam's stomach sank, he was traumatized from the last time, but he had to ask this question again. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do,” Jackson murmured, rubbing Bambam's arm. Bambam felt warm inside, finally validated, and it had taken weeks of suffering to get it.

Both in a better mood, Bambam felt daring. “What is Jinyoung like?”

“You wanna talk about Jinyoung?” Jackson asked irritably.

“If you don't want to, then no.” Bambam didn't wanna piss Jackson off anymore and send him packing to Jinyoung again.

“No, I-, you  _ really  _ wanna talk about  _ Jinyoung _ ?” Jackson turned to face him.

Bambam fiddled with his own necklace. “If he's important to you, then I wanna know.” He said quietly. But this was more for Bambam's peace of mind rather than trying to be mature. He really was interested (and a little bit jealous) in what type of person Jinyoung was.

“Well...he’s a doctor, so he's smart. He's also very handsome and very annoying.” Jackson stopped for a moment. “He's kind of matronly and bossy, and can sing really well.”

“And you love him more.”

“I...” Jackson sighed. “No, I don't. It's just different. I've known him much longer, and he's different from you. I love him differently.”

That was really all Bambam needed to hear, and Jackson didn't share anymore, since Bambam stopped asking.

He wasn't second place to Jinyoung. He was on equal ground.


	10. Chapter 10

Bambam could tell Jackson was antsy like something wasn’t right. And he figured it was about Jinyoung, and it was. Jackson hadn’t seen Jinyoung in two weeks, and it was clear to Bambam that he missed Jinyoung. Bambam also wanted to know about Jinyoung. He was so painfully curious about him. He thought Jackson was so great and fantastic, he couldn’t believe there was someone who could affect him this much. Bambam knew he didn’t have that power, so Jinyoung must have been an amazing person.

Jackson had been telling Bambam how much he loved him and informed Bambam whenever he talked to Jinyoung, so Bambam wouldn’t be lonely or suspicious.

Bambam had already made it clear that he didn’t mind if Jackson wanted to be with Jinyoung too, but what Bambam didn’t know was that Jackson was making preparations for the three of them.

Jackson had told Jinyoung that he had forgiven him for cheating, but that Jackson wasn’t going to abandon Bambam. This bothered Jinyoung at first, but he was slowly opening up to the idea. Jinyoung could be mean, but Bambam wasn’t the kind of person that should endure that, therefore Jackson had explained a little bit of Bambam’s backstory, but not all of it. Jinyoung was a bleeding heart, and if he knew a little of Bambam's suffering, then he would be inclined to be nicer.

The first Saturday of March was when Bambam was finally able to meet Jinyoung. They were meeting at a cafe, a place Bambam had only been to once. He was nervous picking out his clothes and over what to say. He wanted Jinyoung to like him, it was important. But he didn't know why he felt that way. He would never tell Jackson, and he could barely admit it to himself, but he hated Jinyoung. He didn't want Jackson to still have feelings for him, and he didn't want to share Jackson with him. What he really felt was pressure for Jinyoung to like and accept him, so he wouldn't take Jackson away from him. If Jinyoung liked Bambam, then maybe he would be okay sharing Jackson with him.

Ultimately, Jackson had to fix Bambam’s clothes and coach him through the handshake Jinyoung offered him. Jinyoung made a weird face and Bambam felt stupid, but it didn’t last, because Jackson and Jinyoung quickly jumped into conversation. Bambam could understand some of what they were saying, but his Chinese still wasn’t good enough to understand everything. They were talking about their jobs a lot, and slowly, Bambam watched as Jinyoung became more vulnerable around Jackson. Whining or complaining or touching Jackson playfully.

Bambam had seen pictures of Jinyoung, but real life was different. He was so unbelievably good-looking. He wore a casual suit ensemble, very expensive looking pointy shoes, and smelled amazing.

At some point, Jackson went to go order their drinks, and Jinyoung’s eyes moved to meet Bambam's. He studied Bambam for a moment, then asked, “How old are you?”

Bambam was wondering if he should lie or not, and figured it was best, to tell the truth. Did age matter anymore now that he was in China? 

“17.” Bambam fiddled his thumbs nervously? Was he ever this nervous talking to someone? “How old are you?”

“26.” He said coolly. 

Bambam remembered the picture of Jinyoung in a hospital. “Jackson told me you were a doctor.”

“I am.” Jinyoung acknowledged politely. “How do you like China?”

“It’s really nice. I love Jackson for bringing me here with him.”

Jinyoung marinated on this, and Bambam felt that he said something he shouldn’t have. “You love Jackson?” He raised his eyebrows a little.

“Yes, a lot.”

Jinyoung smiled, propping his head on his hand. “Me too.”

Bambam was extra cautious around Jinyoung. He was strange, he couldn’t figure him out. Was he feeling jealous, a little, but what did this really mean for Bambam’s relationship with Jackson? Deep down, he feared Jackson would eventually choose Jinyoung over him. Their awkward encounter at the cafe hadn’t made Bambam feel any better, or any less like Jinyoung would take Jackson away from him.

Jinyoung had been coming over every now and then at Jackson’s request after Bambam said he didn’t mind if Jinyoung came by. Jackson had already promised Bambam he would stop going to Jinyoung’s for a while, but that now meant that Jinyoung had to share the same space as Bambam in Jackson’s apartment. Bambam’s biggest concern was Jackson not paying attention to him, and if Jinyoung had to be in his life to keep Jackson's attention, then so be it.

Bambam had never felt so insecure before. Even when he knew Jackson was seeing Jinyoung behind his back, it didn’t compare to watching them in person. Watching Jinyoung hold Jackson's face and kiss him slowly, softly, in a way Jackson had never kissed Bambam before was difficult. And when Jackson’s eyelids would flutter open rapidly, and pull Jinyoung’s hips closer, Bambam was jealous. They never had sex, or at least Bambam never  _ heard _ it. That wouldn't have bothered him as much anyway. He was a prostitute,  he had seen and done most things, but romance was something new to him. It was all the little romantic gestures that upset Bambam. He had only been romantic with Jackson, and to see Jackson be romantic with someone else was a bit painful, but he had to suck it up. What other choice did he have? He was enduring it because he loved Jackson.

 

Similarly, Jinyoung was having problems accepting Bambam. It had taken Jackson a few weeks to convince Jinyoung, to be okay with Bambam living at Jackson's apartment. Jinyoung didn't understand why Jackson had basically adopted a kid from Thailand. But it wasn't like that, and Jackson's ultimatum forced Jinyoung to really question their relationship. Eventually Jinyoung consented, but with a bitterness for Bambam pre-existing.

Jackson had told Bambam that Jinyoung might be mean to him at first since Jinyoung was possessive and cruel. But much like Jackson, Jinyoung had liked Bambam almost immediately, and how could he not when Bambam was so petite, pretty and clueless about the world outside of Pattaya and Jackson’s apartment. Bambam's broken Chinese, his cute Thai accent, and his lack of social skills were all instantly endearing. Jinyoung couldn't be mean to a kid as innocent as this when he recognized that he really did care for Jackson.

Bambam was trying so damn hard for Jinyoung to like him too. He didn’t want Jinyoung to be a threat, and he was trying to wash the feeling away by overcompensating. Anytime Jinyoung came over Bambam would hug him and ask about his day like he did Jackson. Jinyoung was receptive enough, and by the third visit, he had decided Bambam was worthy. What Bambam didn’t know was that while Jinyoung was placating Jackson, he was watching Bambam, gauging his reactions, his habits. This wouldn't be an open relationship for only Jackson, that would be unfair to Bambam and Jinyoung. No, Jinyoung recognized Bambam's beauty and would pursue it too.

“Bambam, Jagi~♡,” Jinyoung called, his voice syrupy sweet. Bambam hesitated, listening for a follow-up. “It’s Jackson's birthday soon. Let’s make his favorite: dim sum.” Jinyoung had already cooked Bambam breakfast, and they were both in the kitchen. Jinyoung was reading a little book and Bambam was trying to watch the news.

Jackson was at work and Jinyoung, having the day off, stopped by to spend some time with Bambam. Jinyoung loved kids, but he also recognized Bambam as an adult as well. He could have been born the day before Jinyoung, and Jinyoung would still want to dote on him as if he were a baby.

Bambam was fucking nervous the minute he opened the front door and saw Jinyoung. Jackson wasn’t here and when Jinyoung told Bambam he was here to see him he almost shit himself. 

Jinyoung hugged Bambam long and hard, and Bambam was surprised, but quickly melted into Jinyoung’s warm body, inhaling the cologne on his neck. Bambam was usually the one to initiate a hug, so he was even more surprised when Jinyoung wrapped him up so tightly.

Jinyoung pulled back to look at Bambam, then gently held his face to deliver one of the soft kisses that made Jackson weak in the knees. And Bambam could see why Jinyoung’s kisses had that kind of effect on their victims. Bambam had only ever wanted to kiss Jackson, but he couldn't help himself from connecting his lips back to Jinyoung's when Jinyoung pulled apart.

Bambam hesitantly agreed to make dim sums, and Jinyoung showed Bambam how to mix the filling and fold the dough and steam the buns. Bambam had obviously never cooked before, which was even more endearing to Jinyoung when he asked for help or messed up. When they were done, and Jinyoung fed Bambam the first bite, Bambam couldn’t contain himself and blurted: “delicious!” in Thai.

Jinyoung ate a dim sum too, glad that Bambam was having fun. “Jackson will love these, even more, when he knows they were made by the people who love him.” Bambam nodded, pondering Jinyoung’s sincere words.

Jinyoung stepped closer and squeezed Bambam’s face, kissing his cheeks, then lips, smiling. Bambam was a bit confused. Jinyoung had never been standoffish towards him, but he had also never been this affectionate towards him. Sure he would sling his arm around Bambam’s shoulders, reciprocate his hugs, and kiss him on the forehead as Jackson did, but he had never really been kissed by Jinyoung like he was just now. Usually, Bambam felt smaller under Jinyoung’s gaze like he was picking him apart, searching his soul, and Bambam didn’t want to tell him about his life in Thailand yet. But right now, as Jinyoung stroked his cheeks and gazed at him adoringly, Bambam was having second thoughts.

“You’re so cute, Bambam,” Jinyoung said in his accented Chinese. It felt strange to hear that coming from the most beautiful person Bambam had ever seen, but it somehow made it even sincerer than when Jackson said it. Jinyoung bent down to kiss Bambam again, this time longer, deeper, and with tongue. Bambam pulled away, confused. What did kissing Jinyoung mean? Jinyoung was Jackson's boyfriend. Bambam thought he was only supposed to share Jackson with Jinyoung, not also share Jinyoung with Jackson.

“J-Jinyoung-” Bambam faltered. What the hell was going on?

“Call me  _ ‘Oppa’ _ .”

“O-Oppa?”

“Yeah.” What the hell was going on?

“Why did you kiss me?” Bambam asked, flustered.

“You didn’t think I would let Jackson keep you all to himself, did you?” Jinyoung said casually, popping another dim sum into his mouth.

“But you’re Jackson’s boyfriend.”

“So are you.”

“I am?” Bambam had never really seen himself as Jackson's equivalent. That was one of the reasons why he didn’t question Jinyoung in the picture. Jackson and Jinyoung were older, established, while Bambam was a grubby, little street rat. 

“What else are you?”

“...I don’t know.” Neither Jackson nor Bambam had made any official title for their relationship. It just was what it was.

“If Jackson’s never claimed you as his boyfriend, then I will.” Jinyoung moved on just as quickly as he had confused Bambam. “We should make some more, I might eat them all.” He popped another dim sum into his mouth.

 

Jinyoung had left after a few hours when he was called in for an emergency shift. He gave Bambam one sweet kiss, “that's for you,” then another, “that's for Jackson,” and departed.

 

When Jackson came home, Bambam glommed onto him, making out with him almost immediately. “ _ Ah _ , I love you so much...”  Bambam said breathlessly, clinging onto Jackson.

“You’re happy today,” Jackson chuckled. Bambam was happy  _ indeed _ . Jackson kissed him in the morning, Jinyoung had kissed him in the afternoon, and now Jackson was kissing him again in the evening. Someone was with him all day, he wasn’t lonely at all. 

“Most of that was from me, but some of it was from Jinyoung.”

“Jinyoung came by?”

Bambam nodded. “And he kissed me a lot.”

“Really,” Jackson commented absentmindedly. He was looking over the mail, while Bambam waited with bated breath over Jackson’s reaction. He was hoping for something, mostly jealousy, but something nonetheless. “But mine are better right?” Jackson pouted, pursing his lips and waiting for Bambam to kiss him. 

Bambam obliged, stating: “of course!”

Jackson smiled small, then fell into his next activity, tossing out the junk mail. Bambam was waiting for him to say something else about Jinyoung, about the kiss, but he never did.

“Do you care if I kiss Jinyoung?” He finally pressed, when they were in bed.

“Do you want to kiss Jinyoung?” Jackson didn’t ask interestedly enough for Bambam’s liking.

“Do you care?” Bambam pressured, more firmly this time.

“No. Kiss him as much as you want.” Jackson closed his eyes, signaling he was tired and wanted to end the conversation. “I’m the one that brought him into your life, so you can have as much fun with him as you want.” 

Bambam hadn’t expected Jackson to cosign onto Jinyoung’s behavior so immediately. He expected at least a little push back. “Really?” Bambam asked softly, thinking about Jinyoung, remembering how it felt to be kissed and hugged by him.

“I love Jinyoung and I love you, wouldn't it be better if you loved each other too?”

**Author's Note:**

> I know I don't mention Jackson using a condom, but he does. (Practice safe sex, People!)


End file.
